


You're Not Making Any Sense

by Kira_Dattei



Series: The Old Guard Whumptober 2020 [25]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Established Relationship, Immortal Husbands Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, M/M, Pre-Canon, Temporary Character Death, Torture, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:00:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27687272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kira_Dattei/pseuds/Kira_Dattei
Summary: Somebody doesn’t like how defiant Yusuf’s gaze is and decides to take his means of looking at him in such a manner. Then he continues to do so as Yusuf’s eyes recover each time.Prompt: Sensory Deprivation
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Series: The Old Guard Whumptober 2020 [25]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1994617
Kudos: 65





	You're Not Making Any Sense

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not a whump writer so I can't promise a huge amount of whump in all of these. I just picked the prompt from each day that actually sparked an idea and ran with it.  
> I'm mostly using these as a way to get a feel for the characters and I simply love the relationships given in canon and wanted to explore them.  
> Joe is the lucky whumpee for most of these because I just love him.
> 
> These are all going to be one-shots and they are as connected as you want them to be so you’re good to just read one and not worry about missing anything.
> 
> I got the idea for this one after writing the first one where I included Joe being afraid of being in complete unnatural darkness. So, actually writing the source event in detail happens here. ^_^  
> I don't think I get extremely graphic but I also know I don't have the best awareness of what constitutes as "graphic" if conversations about my opinion of if a horror movie is graphic or scary. So, I've rated and archive warned on the safe side and hope you guys read responsibly.  
> Hope you enjoy.

Yusuf stumbled along behind the horse he was tied to, Nicolo at his side and he wondered how much farther they had to travel.

They’d both fallen in a battle, reviving a short time later as always but they hadn’t been alone when they had awakened. Apparently, someone had witnessed them die and return through their time throughout the fight. And when one died, the other remained near until they were alive and able to fight again so they did not risk separation in the unpredictable nature of battle. This had been noted and this one who had learned of their ability had waited until the rare instance where they were both dead and had moved in and shackled them and with help of half a dozen other men, had pulled them from the battlefield and they hadn’t stopped moving since.

Yusuf was exhausted and he knew Nicolo would be as well. Coming straight from fighting through most of the day to being forced to walk at a brisk pace through nearly the entire night had brought them to the limits of their endurance. In fact, he was certain that he was only still on his feet because of his healing. But they would still require rest eventually.

They were also not allowing Yusuf to approach Nicolo. The one time the horses they were tied to had come closer to one another and Yusuf had without thought stepped closer to his love, they had beat him viciously. Nicolo had called out for him, his eyes burning with rage at them hurting Yusuf. And once they had allowed Yusuf to heal, he’d been about to do it again when Nicolo had told him not to, speaking one of their common languages of Latin since they were in a region where Arabic was a reasonably common tongue.

Yusuf had only listened because Nicolo had asked.

But separated as they were lowered their chances of overpowering their captors and gaining freedom, especially since they already knew their secret. That always made matters more difficult.

Nearing a hundred years since their first death and Yusuf would say they were at last becoming accustomed to the finer points of this deathless life they had decided to lead. They followed battle, aiding who they believed were in the right, who weren’t fighting for oppression or simply for the sake of killing others. However, that had meant that they became targeted themselves often and sometimes, like now, they were overpowered as they were only two men.

The ones holding them prisoner this time appeared to be of the sort who enjoyed causing others pain and Yusuf was morbidly curious as to what manner of harm their dark desires would inflict.

The one who was leading them slowed his horse down to come between Nicolo and Yusuf and he sneered down at them in turn. He then announced, “I shall put this devilry that allows you to yet walk the world after death to the test.” When Yusuf simply stared at him with an unflinching gaze, he crowded the horse toward him but Yusuf didn’t budge. Frustrated when that still didn’t make him falter, he kicked out at him. Yusuf dodged the kick, grabbing it before he could pull it back, and then he yanked at it to pull him from the saddle. The man yelped in surprise as he fell to the ground and Yusuf managed to kick him once in the face and a second time in the stomach before he was swarmed again and forced to the ground, though he was only held there instead of beaten like he’d been before.

He heard Nicolo call out to him, concerned but unable to see him around the man’s horse and he likely wasn’t being allowed to move to where he could see Yusuf.

The man quickly returned to his feet and again glared down at Yusuf who returned the expression. He moved in close and sneered. “This fight you have will be destroyed.”

Yusuf smirked. “Only one can take my fight and he will never try.” He ensured he spoke loud enough that Nicolo would hear him and know he was well.

Besides, Yusuf was simply being honest. Many had attempted to force his compliance but it only left him when Nicolo requested it of him. And he trusted his Nicolo would never attempt to ask of him to not be who he was.

“We shall see,” the man said calmly enough and they were soon again on their way, travelling for the remainder of the day.

When they reached their destination, a large domicile with a sublevel filled with cages, Yusuf supposing it had been used for slaves once but no longer now as that had become less common and accepted in this area.

He expected to be thrown in one of the cells but he was pulled past them, Nicolo a short distance behind. They pulled him to a far wall, hooking the chain connecting his hands to a ring on the wall, raising his arms above his head so that he had little slack. He watched carefully as Nicolo was pulled to a table across the room and was laid out and secured with its leather straps about his wrists, ankles, and around the stomach and neck.

He gave the chain a quick yank, testing if it was secure. He felt some give so he knew that if he was given the chance to work at it for a while he would likely manage to pull it free. This place was old and unkept and that would be their path to regaining freedom.

Yet it wouldn’t be now while they were yet surrounded by enemies that could quickly recapture them.

Yusuf was aware that two of the more muscled men were moving to stand at either side of him and they were suddenly pressing him into the wall at his shoulders and then they grabbed at his head and held it back and still.

The man Yusuf had attacked was walking up to him, anger in his eyes and a metal iron, the tip red with heat held in his hand. He stepped up and his free hand took hold of Yusuf’s chin, holding him still.

He gave Yusuf a superior look, a dark smirk on his face, and then he declared, “You will not look at me like that again.”

Yusuf knew at once what was coming and attempted to prepare himself for the pain but was taken by surprise by something he hadn’t felt in a long time as he watched the iron approach his right eye: fear of the pain. This would hurt immensely and then he would be blinded until he healed.

He wasn’t truly concerned over them not healing. After having been decapitated, he assumed that nothing short of the complete destruction of their entire bodies would heal. But it would likely hurt more than anything he had experienced and there was only so much he could ignore and endure.

He was so taken with the fear of the pain that he wasn’t prepared for it to actually register. He felt the heat coming from the iron burning at his skin even before it touched him and then it was followed by the indescribable pain of his eye being burned from his skull, the iron being stabbed into the socket and held there for a time he couldn’t move beyond the pain to determine. And then there was slight relief as it was removed but then it repeated as they did the same to his other eye.

He was screaming, he knew, even though he wasn’t completely cognizant of it beyond the pain. He barely even registered the sound of Nicolo’s voice calling for him, only aware of such because it was Nicolo’s voice and he had long since become incapable of ignoring that.

Yusuf thought he may have passed out yet he couldn’t be certain with the overwhelming sensation of pain, even as the iron was removed and the hands gripping at him were removed and he sagged against the wall and chains holding him upright.

The pain was accompanied by absolute darkness. He had never experienced such darkness and he was caught off guard at how much it bothered him that he could see _nothing_.

The first time Yusuf had drawn had been when he was but a child, discovering how ashes could be used to make pictures. His mother had encouraged him to continue drawing and he had improved swiftly. His father tolerated his desire to create images as long as he saw to his duties. It had only been when Yusuf had first picked up his scimitar to learn how to fight and then had gone to battle with the invaders coming for their Holy Land that Yusuf had set aside all instruments of creation. He had felt the need to commit to learning the art of battle and so had sacrificed the one thing he truly enjoyed. A few years into travelling with Nicolo had resulted in him again absently using ash to draw on rockfaces. Nicolo had noticed and one of their supply runs had resulted in his once enemy giving him parchment and charcoal and telling him he wished to see what Yusuf could create.

He once again started drawing and it had once more became something that felt as a counter to all the death he caused. It was something he could create and give to the world. And Nicolo had always seemed to enjoy what he created as well.

But his creation, his drawings, were always about what he had seen. To be deprived of what allowed him to find images he wished to find a way to commit to longer than a moment in this world unsettled him deeply.

Yusuf could feel the pain receding, his eyes reforming and healing slowly. But it was in this shift of his focus that he was able to become aware of Nicolo’s cries of pain across the room. Regardless of his eyes not being recovered, Yusuf began fighting against his restraints, unable to ignore the pain of his love. It would also help to work the ring free without him being suspected of doing so. But between the lingering pain and his borderline panic of hearing Nicolo in pain but not knowing what was being done to him made for too much of a distraction for him to know if he was making any progress in gaining freedom. He doubted he was just yet.

“The eyes…” he heard someone say from his left, their voice awed.

His eyelids had thankfully reformed and he kept them closed so he didn’t have to be even more aware of just how his eyes were reforming and his vision healing. He had only just barely felt the last tingles on the healing and was about to open his eyes and check on Nicolo when he was again pressed back into the wall and he barely had time to struggle when he felt the heat of the iron once again at his face and his eyes were burned from his skull once more.

It was as horrible the second time.

It was as horrible the twentieth time.

It never got better even as he lost count, his healing taking longer and keeping him in a dark haze of pain and Nicolo’s screaming for an untold passing of time. And as there was little bleeding and they never pressed it in too long or deep to kill him, he remained alive the entire time. He knew it was not so for Nicolo as there were long spans of time where he was silent in a manner that indicated he was in death. And each time Yusuf felt his panic escalate until he heard Nicolo again.

The only comfort lay in that he was released each time and he was able to thrash against his chain freely. His knowledge that it was but a matter of time before he was freed was what enabled him to continue fighting regardless of suffering.

His attention was truly pulled from his cycle of pain and healing when he wasn’t pressed into the wall once his eyes had reached a certain point of healing. He couldn’t tell if there was even anyone at his sides anymore but his eyes weren’t completely healed yet, though they were close.

At last he could open his eyes and while his vision was yet blurry, it was clearing further as the last bit of healing finished and he managed to pick out where everyone was.

There were less men in the room than had been when this had begun and the ones who remained were gathered around the table Nicolo was strapped to. And while they were gathered too closely together to see what was happening, Yusuf saw enough indication that they were struggling.

Nicolo had been working on gaining his own freedom and had apparently made sudden progress and they had all gone to ensure he remained prisoner, allowing Yusuf to fall from their attention.

He moved quickly but quietly, looking up at the ring holding his chained hands and saw how near to coming free it was. He turned and reached up, pulling at the ring at different angles to loosen it further and then twisting it around until it slid free, decayed pieces of the wall coming with it.

He fell over with the loss of something forcing him to remain upright and he immediately ducked out of sight behind another table so he could shift his grip around the chains so he could use them as weapons. He could knock many of them out before they were truly aware he was attacking.

He looked around the edge of the table to ensure the men were still occupied with restraining Nicolo and felt a rush of warm pride in his love for how much struggle he was giving them even still partially secured to the table as he was.

Yusuf was aware that his Nicolo had likely been pushed deep into rage by Yusuf’s pain and he was lashing out now. Because while they were both equally protective over each other, Nicolo had a tendency toward borderline cruelty to those responsible while Yusuf unleashed quick fury and then saw to Nicolo.

Yusuf moved quickly and silently, crossing the room and striking the thick shackles around his wrists around the back of two men’s heads, knocking them unconscious. They had been holding at Nicolo’s right hand and so he gained freedom in his own movement to strike out at some more of the men attempting to hold him down. Yusuf had already moved on to strike out at whomever attempted to attack him.

With not as many people swarming around him, it was much easier to maintain control of the fight until he and Nicolo were the only ones yet conscious. And then Yusuf grabbed a sword from one of the men’s belts and ensured they would not again be caught by these people by killing them now. And once he saw to Nicolo, they would see to it that no one in the rest of the building who were associated with these men so willing to torture were killed as well.

They couldn’t be certain who knew their secret, after all, and discretion was necessary for their safety. That was a lesson learned through mistake.

Nicolo was working free the last restraints around his ankles as Yusuf stood upright, feeling his exhaustion rush through him and he allowed the sword to fall from his loose grip. He brought his hands to his face and ran his fingers softly over his eyelids and around his eyes. His skin was unblemished, his eyes were completely recovered, his vision was as clear as it had ever been.

And yet he found he couldn’t keep his eyes closed for very long, feeling his heartbeat and breathing speed up. He opened his eyes and dropped his hands and looked over toward Nicolo, who was watching him, his expression concerned and loving.

His tunic was hanging open and his torso was covered in blood, Yusuf refusing to look to the side to see proof of what they’d taken from Nicolo. That amount of blood came from more than just being repeatedly cut open.

Yusuf stepped closer and went to embrace his Nicolo but stopped when he was reminded of the shackles around his wrists. So, instead, he simply cupped Nicolo’s face, one hand on each cheek before he leaned in and pressed his lips to Nicolo’s securely. He felt Nicolo’s hands at his forearm above the shackle while the other cupped the back of his head and tangled in his hair.

Once Yusuf parted their lips, Nicolo’s hand moved from his arm up to his cheek, brushing gently just below his eye. He closed his eyes reflexively and then pulled away slightly from the touch. He greatly disliked that what had happened made him pull away from his love’s gentle touch but Nicolo didn’t appear to mind. He simply laid his hand flat against Joe’s cheek, angling his hand so his fingers did not settle near Yusuf’s eye.

“We must finish this,” Nicolo said in a soft tone. “Not much sound was made so we may yet manage to take the rest unaware. We will see to one another once we are again safe.”

Yusuf nodded, forcing a smile as he stepped back to allow Nicolo room to stand. They armed themselves and carried out their attack, neither of them taking another injury, not even the slightest cut.

In the months that followed, Yusuf struggled to recover. He could not find comfort in even the natural darkness of night, the echo of constant pain lurking in the back of his mind and affecting him so much that he sometimes had difficulty breathing until fire was lit or the sun began to rise. His sleep was constantly disturbed and it wasn't unusual for him to spend the entirety of night awake and only comforted by the warmth of Nicolo alongside him.

Although not even his interactions with Nicolo were spared as there were times where his love would reach out to touch his face, as he often did, but Yusuf would be unable to avoid flinching away, seeing not the safety of Nicolo's touch but the burning metal that had burned him so many times. He knew that Nicolo was saddened by his touch causing Yusuf discomfort but he endured until it no longer occurred.

And even when Yusuf recovered from what had happened, when he no longer suffered crippling fear over night and most instances of being thrust into darkness or his vision being impaired, it was a fear that never completely left him. Even years following, if he was placed into darkness for a long period of time, especially if Nicolo wasn't nearby, he would again be trapped in the panic that he had felt that day, often unable to pull himself from it on his own.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed. If you feel so inclined, please drop a kudo or a comment. I appreciate every one.
> 
> Also, if you've got a prompt to shoot my way to keep me working in this fandom, feel free to leave a comment relaying it and I will try to do something with it. Even if it is something you might want to see for a sequel of any of these fics, I will try my best to work with it. I'm just loving this fandom and these characters and want to do more.
> 
> Very side note ^_^: when I was writing this fic and when I was reading through to edit it, you need to understand how tempted I was to include the quote "Burn the insolence out of his eyes" but restrained myself. Kudos to anyone who knows the reference ;)


End file.
